


you'll have me

by Oshii



Series: I Have That Effect on Women ;) Lucifer H/C Prompt Fills [4]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Deckerstar - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Lucifer, Implied Deckerstar, Post-Devil Face Reveal to Chloe Decker, Post-Episode: s03e24 A Devil of My Word, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 19:18:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20879342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshii/pseuds/Oshii
Summary: Post 3x24. Maze finds her way back to the penthouse following her check-up with Linda, post-abduction. She also finds that Lucifer's wings are a bleeding mess, and so is his heart. H/C, angst, post-devilface spoilers.





	you'll have me

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous said:  
"I would love to see one where lucifer isn't doing well physically at some point after his fallout with maze, but that she still pulls through to be there for him."
> 
> Posted Feb. 21, 2019.  
Original link: https://oshii.tumblr.com/post/182950321154/i-would-love-to-see-one-where-lucifer-isnt-doing

Maze struggled to hold in her tears, fighting for valiance she could not show the first time.

_I’m everyone’s second option.…never anybody’s first_ _choice._

Spread out before her…well, spread wasn’t the word she would have chosen, as it implied lavish greatness. The battered, bleeding angel wings she was staring at were anything but lavish. They were horribly damaged – bleeding, feathers falling off in unceremonious flutters with each ragged muscle twitch (and Lucifer’s accompanying shuddering hisses of pain weren’t helping Maze steel her resolve, either).

“Ssh—_gah-_!”

She bit her lip and inhaled firmly, continuing to press the gauze pad over the leaking bullet wound in his left wing. His right twitched convulsively, as if sensing its partner’s pain. “Hold still,” she admonished, putting more force into her tone than she felt in her soul. “I’m trying to stop the bleeding.”

Lucifer – shirtless, sweating, hair bedraggled – leaned over and coughed dryly, his breathing still labored. “I _know_ that,” he panted. “’s a bloody _reflex_, Maze—_GAH!_”

Maze pulled the gauze pad away. The wound was still slick and fresh, still shining crimson, but it was no longer slowly oozing blood. Satisfied, she lowered the gauze. His healing factor would kick in shortly, and she could run far the fuck away from this nightmare.

_Lucifer had never – _would_ never – shield _her

_with his wings. Not in two thousand years._

_She was _his_ bodyguard, not the other way around._

_He’d done this for Chloe Decker, but not for her._

“There,” she announced, swallowing past her pity. “The bleeding’s stopped.”

He shuddered, flexing his ruined wings experimentally. A few more feathers fell, and Maze’s heart crumbled along with the rest of her resolve. Silently, she let her face twist into sorrow, and the tears came. For even a demon knew the glorious strength of divinity, and to see it hanging in tattered, bleeding scraps – _massacred_ without a second thought –

“You did this to protect her,” she began, her voice low. “Where is she now?” When Lucifer did not answer, a hot surge of anger ripped through Maze, and she balled her hands into fists. “Where is she TO SEE WHAT SHE’S _DONE_?!”

The sudden gust of wind as Lucifer swelled to his feet, his ruined wings surging outward with immense strength, was enough to stun Maze. She staggered a few steps before falling backwards, her eyes enormous.

Lucifer rose to his full height, blood-streaked wings creaking to the ceiling. His eyes blazed with cold fire. The lights dimmed and surged, and the air swelled with the burning reek of ozone and coppery blood. “You will not judge her, Maze,” he boomed, eyes searing like coals. “The Detective willed to lay down her life to protect me, and –”

“What about _me_, Lucifer?” shrieked Maze, her voice gone hoarse from tears and emotion. “When will _I_ be good enough for you? You’d shield _Chloe_ with your angel wings, but not me!” She swiped a rough hand across her eyes, scuttling backwards in the wake of his wrath. “_I laid down my life for you a hundred__times_. I’m the one shielding _you_, for thousands of years, and I’m the one you call to clean up your mess. As _usual_.”

“SHE SAW IT, MAZIKEEN!” Lucifer roared, voice deepening into a thousand incantations of raw horror. Millennia passed through the torment echoing throughout the room, reverberating off the stone and marble like chanted curses of failings and regret. “_SHE SAW MY TRUE FACE_.” 

All went still.

As if drained by expelling that truth, Lucifer exhaled and visibly diminished, his tattered wings fluttering and slowly crumpling back to their folded position. The lights mellowed into an ambient glow, and the TV crackled back to life, a tinny news broadcaster murmuring in the background.

Maze, still facing up from the floor, gaped in speechless astonishment. When she finally spoke again, her voice was small, tentative: “Decker saw your devil face?”

The shirtless mortal man standing before her was a ruined echo of the power displayed moments before. Lucifer was exhausted, his breaths staggered and his eyelids drooping. “Yes, Maze,” he whispered. “She did.”

Moments of silence followed; then, softly snickered amusement pierced the tension like a flaming sword. “You moron,” Maze gasped, her teeth a brilliant flash of white beneath the muddled tears.

“You’ve been beating yourself up over _that_? You think Chloe can’t handle your truth?” She shook her head, lip curling. “How predictably self-centered.”

Lucifer’s face was a rising tsunami bearing down on an innocent shoreline. “How _dare_ you—”

“Decker’s _kid_ saw my face!” she continued, her mirth glittering, angst dissolving into breathless incredulity. She flung a hand into empty air, to emphasize her point. “If she really loves you – and let’s be real, you two are obviously, disgustingly, _nauseatingly_ in love – she’ll push through to see the real you. And I’m not talking about the scary red devil face, either.”

Another bastion of silence was required as Lucifer processed this revelation. Then, he sighed, quietly. “I suppose you’re right, Mazikeen. You…usually are.”

He collapsed onto the nearest chair, exhaling with great enormity, slouching forward like Atlas shouldering the world. His hands – long fingers, talented from centuries of dancing across piano keys and soft navels – clasped in his lap, and his head bowed. If Maze didn’t know any better, she’d have wagered he prayed.

She got up and crossed the room, settling onto the cushion beside his chair. With no fanfare, she reached out and gently laid one of her own battle-scarred hands atop his. Astonished, he lifted his brow to stare at her, his eyes terribly pained and his gaze questioning, soft.

“You always have led with your heart,” she told him, tightening her grip. “It’s what gets you into trouble. ‘s why I’m here.” Her gaze was insistent, meaningful, as she leaned into their shared space, closing the gap. “To protect you from you. To be your badass bodyguard, and to make sure nobody screws with you. Especially not that overbearing conscience of yours.”

Lucifer blinked, stunned by this rare display of insightful intimacy. “Maze, I—”

“Decker will be fine,” she insisted, withdrawing her hand and straightening up with an inexplicable smile. “She’s tough. She lived with me for a whole season, for crying out loud.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at the edges of his mouth, hesitant, almost shy. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive,” replied Maze, folding her arms. “And if not, she’ll have me to answer to. And you’ll have me.”


End file.
